


in your absence

by starmist



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellamy PoV, Gen, Post s2 finale, Present Tense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-08 00:37:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4284015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starmist/pseuds/starmist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And that is the truth he has been circling for the past few hours. He doesn’t know if he will ever see Clarke again. She could fall down a ravine, get speared in the chest, fall unconscious from the cold and die from exposure – and none of them would ever see her again.<br/>--<br/>Angsty post-S2 fic, Bellamy stays in camp and helps the Arkers rebuild their society. Clarke will eventually make an appearance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in your absence

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, so! I started writing this after the S2 finale and never posted any of it. I have 11k written so far so you know I'm not going to randomly abandon it like previous fics (I'm the Worst, I know!). I just wanted to post it as I promised people I'd be updating my Grounder!Bellarke AU this weekend and didn't. If you've read my fic 'we are the burdened' you may recognise some of the writing things and general direction, as that was written around the same time I was working on this. But this is going to be a lotttttt slower and longer. Anyway, enjoy.

Once sun begins to fall behind the treeline, Bellamy figures he’s given Clarke a long enough head start. He steels himself, ready to unpack the burden on his shoulders, handing out gifts of misery and grief to those who will miss Clarke the most. Great.

 

She must have been thinking about leaving the entire eight hour trip back to Camp Jaha. He comes to that conclusion as Monty catches his eye and bobs his head in solemn acknowledgement after walking through the gates. She could have lagged at the back of the group and quietly slipped away into the maze of forest at any point. Their group of traumatised delinquents and the few Arkers who’d been captured by the mountain was too weary, too overwhelmed to notice for a while.

 

But she stayed. Walked right up to the gates and then turned her back and walked away, telling only him and Monty of her plans. It doesn’t make sense. He’s not sure why they are the ones she trusted with this secret. He doesn’t know what he’ll say when people ask, either.

 

Abby should know first.

 

He pokes his head into the medical bay to find it already densely populated. Harper sits on a bench as Jackson squeezes a blood pressure balloon that tightens around her arm.

 

Other kids from the mountain smile and nod at him from a disorganised line leading to the bed Abby is currently propped up on. She winces each time she twists her torso to reach for some sort of instrument on the metal tray to her left.

 

He spots Raven sprawled on a low cot behind the line of kids, Wick perched on an upturned bucket by her side. They’re leaned towards each other, hands clasped together on top of the grey blanket covering Raven’s legs. Raven’s eyes dart over to him as he approaches and tugs her hand out of Wick’s grasp.  

 

“You soldering on then, Reyes?” he asks. The words are hardly out of his mouth before he internally winces for asking such a dumb question. _Tactless idiot._ Raven had been practically tortured. For the second time in as many weeks. But Raven doesn’t seem to mind the casual tone, offering him a slow smile.

 

“I’ll live to fight another day I think, Blake.”

 

Raven shifts, leaning her weight on her arm and pull herself more upright. She winces.

 

“What’s going on there then?” Bellamy tips his head towards the small procession of kids gathered by the entrance of the tent.

 

She follows the direction of his gaze. “Abby wanted to give them all a check-up. She got all shouty at Kane when he tried to make her lie down. Like mother like daughter, I suppose.” She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Can’t keep the Griffin women down.”

 

He almost laughs then because, well, _she’s not wrong_. “They are stubborn.” He offers, swallowing nervously. He pushes his hands into the pockets of his trousers and studies the floor. It’s veering far too close to the topic of conversation he really shouldn’t touch until he’s spoken with Abby. Yet the presence of 40+ kids in the tent make that particular vision a little harder to achieve.

 

“What’s it like out there? Any fights broken out over which patch of muddy grass on yet?”

 

In the hours since their return, the camp has been electric with activity, a strange current amplifying the joyous whoops of reunion in stark contrast with wails of grief. Some of the kids return to parents, yet others are left with the lack of information they have on the other Ark stations that fell to Earth. Hope has leeched out of so many faces, mouths twisted into grim defeat, anguished cries echoing eerily amongst the whoops and shouts of the excitement of seeing the new camp for the first time.

 

He had watched Fox’s mother fall to the floor after Octavia has given her the news of her daughter’s demise. Fox had been so, so terrified when he’d found her in the mountain, running and clutching at him like he was the edge of a cliff. He was in the mountain but couldn’t keep her safe. A hot sickly feeling spreads through his stomach at the thought. It’s nothing new, but experience doesn’t make it any easier. He has more blood on his hands than ever before.

 

He had wanted to run away from that feeling once, to let oblivion consume him and wash away his sins. He shares that sentiment with Clarke now. Yet while she had been horrified at the thought of a daily reminder of her crimes, he chooses to embrace it, to become emboldened by it. He will use the laughter and inane chatter of those kids to strengthen to ease the agony rising his chest.

 

Raven interrupts his looping thoughts, one eyebrow lifted in concern.

 

“Bellamy? Everything okay?”

 

He rubs the back of his neck. “Hell, I should be asking you that, Raven.”

 

“I think can deal with a busted leg, dude.” she deadpans. “Seriously, stop with broody hero act. We won okay, we got everyone out.”

 

He pauses before responding. “Not everyone.”

 

She doesn’t argue with him on that point. A lot of people died to get them to where they are now. He can see the ghost of Finn flit across her face.

 

“Yeah but, you know that’s not your fault, right?”

 

The statement knocks the wind out of him. _Does he?_ Is it not his fault, when he could have tried harder? Could have turned off the acid fog sooner, could have stopped Dante help Cage make the deal with the Commander. He could have done a lot of things differently. Abby interrupts his thoughts:

 

“Bellamy, can you ask Clarke to join us? We could use her help here.”

 

Kane ambles over from hovering around Abby, thermometer in hand.

 

Bellamy blinks. He doubts having an audience will make this news any better. He lets the question sit there for a moment, then another.

 

“Clarke’s not here right now. In camp, I mean. She left.”

 

“What?” asks Raven.

 

“Oh,” Kane says.

 

He looks over at Abby, preoccupied with one of the younger kids. Worry creases his forehead. “Do you know when she’ll be back?”

 

“No.” he tells him. “I don’t even know _if_ she’ll come back. At all.” He keeps his voice low, hopes it doesn’t carry across the small space to Abby’s ears.

 

He dips his eyes and flicks them down to Raven, hoping the meaning carries in his gaze. When he switches back to Kane, realisation creeps over his features. He sucks in a breath, opens his mouth to speak, closing it again seconds later.

 

“Oh,” Kane repeats.

 

And that is the truth he has been circling for the past few hours. He doesn’t know if he will ever see Clarke again. She could fall down a ravine, get speared in the chest, fall unconscious from the cold and die from exposure – and none of them would ever see her again.

 

Barring external factors, Clarke herself might never want to see them again anyway.

 

Kane’s extended absence from helping Abby and Jackson process the file of delinquents by the door is finally noticed. Abby halts her ministrations when she sees the concerned looks thrown her way from Raven’s cot.

 

Her face falls, as if she’s already anticipating something awful.

 

Kane ushers the kids from the front of the line out of the tent until it’s just him, Abby, Bellamy and Raven.

 

“What’s going on?” Abby’s voice is low, measured.

 

“Clarke has left camp, Abby.” Kane takes mercy on him and breaks the news. Her eyes widen in horror, darts them between the three of them for further explanation.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

Bellamy steels himself and clears his throat. “I saw her leave. She- She said she couldn’t be here and be reminded of what she’d done.”

 

He starts to elaborate more, mention the tears in her eyes or the catch in her voice when she’d said _may we meet again_ , but he stops. The words lodged in his throat.

 

The way Abby’s face changes as he finishes is one reason for the premature termination of his sentence. He doesn’t want to examine the other reason, a clammy desire to keep that moment private. Comprehension dawns on Abby’s face, moving like an angry wave to wash away any hint of amiability she felt towards him.

 

She pushes back on the palms of her hands to steady herself as she shimmies to lift herself off the cot. Kane rushes over to steady her but she bats his hand away angrily.

 

“We need to go after her, Marcus. She shouldn’t be alone right now.”

 

Abby looks straight into Bellamy’s eyes, piercing and angry, unwavering as she bites out “You knew what she was going to do but you let her go and waited until _now_ to tell someone?”

 

He stays silent. Now is not the time to start justifying his role in Clarke’s absence from camp, however passive it may have been. Out of everyone in camp, he understands her decision better than most would. He doesn’t wish anyone else the experience or circumstance which guide his empathy on that matter.

 

“Abby, calm down, you’re injured. You need to rest.”  

 

“Calm down? My daughter is missing _again_ , and nobody seems the slightest bit alarmed by it! We just got them back!” Abby’s voice rises, frantic with desperation. Kane puts his hand on Abby’s shoulder and fixes her with a level stare.

 

“Abby, Clarke will come back to us, I’m sure. She has a good head on her shoulders.”

 

“I don’t care! She is barely 18, she shouldn’t be alone in the woods after everything that’s happened to her.”

 

Abby puts weight on her bandaged leg, winces and leans against the edge of the cot to take her weight again.

 

“We didn’t have the manpower to search the woods before, and we certainly don’t now. We have no idea where she’ll be.”

 

Bellamy flicks his eyes to the ground, cold shame washing over him as tears spill over and slip down Abby’s cheeks. She has lost her daughter so many times in the last year, and now she is lost again.

 

Sorrow tugs in his heart, nerves worn thin by the exhaustion of the past day (well, past week really).  Anger flares unbidden at the sight in front of him. Clarke left and is causing her mother this anguish. If Octavia were gone, he know he’d be the same. He unfolds his arms and nods at Raven before slipping out of the medical tent onto the grass outside, before more angry words can be fired in his direction.

 

Bellamy sets a path for the canteen, scouring faces to find David Miller. With Kane and Abby occupied elsewhere, he wants to give him a heads up he may need to hold the fort for a little while. He passes by kids sitting with blankets draped over them, passing small sachets of standard Ark issue protein paste between them. He spots Octavia and Lincoln pressed together by a low fire. His sister catches his eye and smiles, lifting a grey blanket to her right and shaking it in his direction. Lincoln holds his gaze cautiously. Their short conversation between Mount Weather and Camp Jaha consisting of murmured apologies and grunting forgiveness.

 

Later, when Bellamy has that same blanket wrapped tightly around him, he stares up at the inky sky and lets his mind run over the events of the day. The people of the sky are finally together on the ground. For the most part, at least. The enemies defeated, the heroes returned victorious. Although he’s not so certain anyone could, or even would, consider him a hero by any stretch of the imagination.

 

There aren’t many things Bellamy is certain of in his life. He knows the sun will rise every morning and set every evening. He knows he was born in the sky but will die on the earth. He knows that he loves his sister more ferociously than anyone or anything in this life or the next. He also knows that Clarke will come back to them one day. That he is certain of. He has to be.

Clarke needs time to grieve and heal and rebuild herself again. To let the fires inside of her spark and flicker until its flames leap at the walls of her heart, devouring until they become nothing but ash.

He can’t begrudge her this one selfish act when she has offered so much of herself to the cause. This is final thought before he falls asleep.

\--

The first few days after their return from the mountain pass in a blur. Bellamy sleeps for almost fourteen hours that first night, waking up to an existence devoid of the scratchy feeling that had found a home behind his eyes. Although that particular discomfort is replaced by a crick in his neck courtesy of the ground he’d made his bed on. Some of the delinquents start to move back into rooms inside Alpha with their families, but those missing parents from other stations have lingered outside.  Others simply refuse to stay anywhere but beside their friends.

 

The Council find they carry little to no authority with the kids anymore, and acquiesce as a miniature tent city is set up inside the fence of Camp Jaha. There are tents salvaged from the uncharred remains of the Dropship, and some crafted into some semblance of shelter from the wreckage of Alpha’s landing. Kane asks Bellamy to supervise the flourishing mini-camp, citing his previous experience in the same thing. Bellamy bites his tongue, refusing to add that the only reason he has such experience is because they sent a hundred kids to the ground by themselves with minimal supplied.

 

 _They listen to you_ , he’d said.

 

Murmurs of dissent come from the council (“he shot the chancellor”) and more than one member of the guard takes issue too (“he isn’t fully trained”).  


He wavers on his answer but Octavia tells him, in no uncertain terms, to take his head out of his ass.

 

“You’re already their leader, Bell. Might as well actually have a say in what goes on in this shitshow.”

 

The mantra _leaders do what they think is right_ thrums in his head until he accepts. Plus it’s nice not to have to mop floors, but that’s a secondary reason at best.

 

Kane shakes his hand when he goes to his quarters to give his answer. “Things won’t be like they were on The Ark, Bellamy” he says, smiling. Although he’s reticent to believe him, his optimism is tangible. Kane must see the scepticism on his face, so he adds “I mean it, we’re going to rewrite the Exodus Charter. It’ll be a new era for our people.”

 

Kane keeps talking to him about the amendments to be made to the Exodus Charter (Abby’s idea, apparently), suggests he picks up a copy from Alpha’s Archives to familiarise himself. He has to make more than a few pointed glances towards the door before Kane catches on and lets him leave.

 

Politics and bureaucracy is not the reason he agreed to look after the delinquent’s camp. If there is one thing he knows how to do, it is to take care of something that is more important himself. This definitely falls into that category.  


\--  


The Archives in Alpha are tiny compared to the room they’d had on Go Sci, and pale in comparison to the vast bunker of plundered treasure in Mount Weather. He knocks on the door, cracking it open a tad after a few moments without answer.

 

The room is scarcely bigger than the apartment he lived in with his mother and sister back on Factory Station, but the walls are lined from floor to ceiling with boxes and books. The Ark library was entirely digitised during the years just after the Cataclysm, as evidenced by the thick layer of dust on most of the shelves.

 

He looks for a clear plastic sheet to leave a note for the Archivist when a head pops up from behind one of the particularly high stacks of books.

 

“Can I help you?”

 

There’s irritation in the girl’s voice, and she folds her arms whilst eyeing him wearily as she thumps a book down on a pile behind her and moves into the small floorspace not enveloped by books and papers.

 

“Err yeah, Kane sent me for a paper copy of the Exodus Charter.”

 

“Oh did he now?” she shakes her head, letting a long exhale out. “I’ve barely got this place back to some semblance of order.”

 

He casts a quick glance around the room.

 

“It’s been hell since the landing. And then random members of the Guard-“

 

“I’m not in the Guard” he interjects, but she ignores his comment and keeps talking.

 

“-random members of the Guard want _paper_ copies of one of the most important political documents of our entire civilization. Paper!”

 

“Just following orders.” He shrugs.

 

“I thought you said you weren’t in the Guard?” she counters easily.

 

“I’m not.”

 

“Well then, you don’t have to follow any orders”.

 

 _Exactly,_ he thinks. _That’s kind of the point_. He laughs as she adjusts the glasses on the bridge of her nose, pushing them up.

 

She glares at him from head to toe and back up again when he stays silent. He can feel the back of his neck prickle as his hackles rise, ready to tell this girl to go to hell. But she lets out a long, suffering sigh and the fight visibly goes out of her posture. 

 

It's not like he's completely unused to people from the Ark looking down at him. His social life had well and truly fizzled after Octavia's discovery. His friends had sitting with him at meal times or asking him to poker nights, as if they were scared of being floated simply through association. They dipped their eyes when they saw him round a corner, looking anywhere but the blue janitor's uniform in front. 

 

The girl sighs, lets the will to fight visibly leave her body and duck back down behind the shelves of books to rummage around. When she returns, she hold a book just larger than her hand, a blue cover and thick yellow pages. He’s never held an actual, real paper book before. His mother talked about having some when she was a girl, but they had been sold after the Factory Station rations were cut.

 

“Don’t eat when you’re reading it. And for heaven’s sake, do not lose it.”

 

Bellamy laughs.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

\---------

He is kept awake the first few nights of their settlement within a settlement is established by the muffled sobs of the kids half-asleep around his tent. Some murmuring comforting words when others turn from fitful sleep to thrashing nightmares.

 

The real truth of Finn’s demise comes out mere days after their return. It’s late in the evening, the sun has found its home behind the trees of the horizon at least an hour ago. There are small fires dotted around the newly designated canteen, Arkers hunched over them for warmth whilst eating their dinner rations.

 

Bellamy spots his sister seated on a log, Lincoln by her side, with Raven sitting adjacent to them. He makes to move towards their party when Jasper appears in his line of sight, marching furiously towards him. Jasper’s eyes are glassy and there are dark circles beneath them. There’s fury in his gaze and it makes Bellamy’s heart ache to remember the easy smiles and goofy jokes of the Jasper from the Dropship camp.

 

“Is it true?” he demands. His voice is cracked and loud, his tone attracting curious glances from Arkers eating their dinner. Octavia looks up and Raven follows her line of sight. Bellamy’s brow furrows at Jasper in confusion but the boy asks again, more desperately this time.

 

“Is it true? Clarke killed Finn?”

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Raven’s face goes white. She rips her gaze away from them and stares hard at the floor. Bellamy promptly grabs Jasper’s arm and pulls him away from their on-lookers into one of the side doors of Alpha station. He stills once they reach the metal corridor inside – it’s unlikely anyone will be in here as it’s dinner time - if you don’t eat when food is served, you don’t eat at all.

Bellamy steels himself and replies; “Yes, it’s true.”

Jasper’s hands go over his face and he takes a step back from Bellamy.

“You have to understand, Jasper. Finn would have been tortured.” He swallows slowly.

Finn’s descent into the place that led him to Tondc with nothing but a gun and sheer desperation haunts his dreams. He’s not even sure if he believes the words he’s saying anyway. Historically his relationship with Finn had been rocky at best, but he was _his_ people. Right up until the moment he saw the red stain inching down the front of Finn’s shirt he had been running rescue scenarios in his head.

Jasper removes his hands from his face, he huffs out an angry noise and looks at Bellamy with disbelief. His face is contorted in grief, eyes fierce and begging for further elaboration. Begging for it not to be true. But Bellamy can only offer him the truth and hope it is enough.

“He lost it after you guys were taken. He shot 18 people – 19, actually – because he thought they were holding you captive.” He tries to keep his voice even but it wouldn’t lessen the blow even if he could. Jasper’s eyes widen and he moves to leave, then halts his weary steps and turns slowly back to Bellamy. His hand grasps for purchase at the wall behind him as he leans himself against it. Hot, angry tears mark tracks down his cheeks; he tries to blink them away. His hand clamps firmly over his mouth, muffling a faint sob.

Bellamy can’t help but feel the sharp stab of guilt in his gut.

Jasper is not even 18, but he’s had a spear through his chest, been held prisoner by a group of murderous lunatics, lost the first girl he ever loved and his relationship with his best friend in the space of three months. Now he finds out his friend was killed by the girl who has saved his life more than once. There is grief and white hot rage fighting a winning war against his loyalty and affection for Clarke.

“It was the lesser of two evils.” Bellamy adds, trying to make Jasper understand. He’s parroted these words to himself in the days since Finn’s death, silently marvelling at Clarke for more pragmatic than he could ever be.

He’s still not sure if he has entirely convinced himself though. Reconciling the death of a friend as the price paid for an alliance than went to shit the moment they needed them the most is not easily. It sits heavily on his chest.

Jasper likely won’t be convinced either, blinded by sorrow to any of the rational platitudes Bellamy verbalises. Jasper didn’t see hear the battle cries of a blood thirsty Grounder army ready to invade the camp on Lexa’s word; he didn’t see the haunted expression on Finn’s face before he gave himself up at the Dropship; he didn’t see Clarke trudge back to camp with eyes blown puffy from tears and hands tacky with the blood of the boy she loved.

“Is that what she said about Maya too?” Jasper spits, because of course that is where all roads lead.  Rivers and roads back to Maya of the mountain, the revolutionary rebel girl with kind eyes and a stubborn heart. “Is that what you tell _yourself_? That it’s okay to kill innocent people as long as you’re okay in the end?”

The weariness in Jasper’s limbs is numbed by the tingling shock spreading through his body. He slides against the wall to sit on the floor, knees up in front of him and an arm thrown over his head. Crouching down in front of him, Bellamy puts a tentative hand on Jasper’s forearm. His hand is there barely a moment before Jasper jerks his head up and pulls away, shoving Bellamy backwards as he stands himself up.

“Get away from me!” he shouts. Bellamy tenses up at the look on Jasper’s face. It’s angles of betrayal and hatred and despair. His feet track dirt onto the grey floor as he makes his way to the door they had entered the ship through, hurrying away.

Jasper won’t be the only kid who will react this way to knowing the truth of Finn’s fate, so he prepares himself for the onslaught of questions later that evening. He repeats what he said to Jasper at least a dozen times ( _it was a mercy killing, there was no way to save him, the grounders would have tortured him)_ until it beats out a steady rhythm in his head.

Every time Raven is within in ear shot of their questions he tamps down the desire to yell at the kid for being so tactless.

Maybe this is how monsters justify their evil after all – through cold pragmatism, through facts and figures and weighing up one life over the other. Disgust rises in his chest at the thought. The words rattling off his tongue sound too close to the council’s rule on the Ark. The one for the many.

That is not a philosophy he has any intention of adopting.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos are always appreciated, and comments are coveted! (Preferably with some feedback, not just "omg pls update", but ya know). I'm azureriley on tumblr, come say hi :)


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